


End of the Line

by stardustsroses



Category: A Court of Thorns and Roses Series - Sarah J. Maas
Genre: Angst, F/M, Fluff, a little smutty but mainly angst, extra angst just for good measure, just angst basically
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-21
Updated: 2018-10-21
Packaged: 2019-08-05 10:54:04
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,418
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16366505
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stardustsroses/pseuds/stardustsroses
Summary: We’re at the end of the lineShe keeps me from holding her tightTrying to make sure she’s fineDon’t let me go





	End of the Line

She had once said to him:  
“Even forever is bound to have an ending.”  
He had not believed her then. He had thought himself strong enough to defy fate itself, to stop time and erase every threat, every monster that came for them.  
But time and fate had not been allies, and he had not been strong enough, and the monsters soon came to take her away to a land he began to hate. They took it all. They took his sun.  
For the first time in centuries, the High Lord of Day closed the curtains on the bright blue sky, and prevented the sun from coming in.  
But despite the darkness, the memories still managed to creep in, from time to time. He felt as if he was watching the scene unfold in front of his eyes, as he walked the gardens of his palace that day: her, with unbound hair and bright eyes, smiling up at him on his bed, waiting until his arms enveloped her; him, with an open heart and a hammering heartbeat, approaching her, letting his hands drag up the warmth of her legs, her waist, her arms. Then – so clear – the smile she gave him as she looked up at him, one of her hands coming to stroke the dark hair away from his eyes.  
“You took long enough,” her voice was embedded in his mind, forever to remain. It sang in his mind like soft bells.  
“Apologies, my love,” he’d said to her then, kissing her cheek, truly sorry. “Nothing else will take me from your arms for the rest of the day.”  
That same smile – full of mischief, full of love – it came to her face then, igniting her amber eyes. That smile was an anchor in his heart now, weighing it down. “That’s better. What about tomorrow?”  
“What about tomorrow?” He’d asked her.  
“Will anything lead you to leave my arms tomorrow?” Her arms had wrapped around him – the only cage he wouldn’t mind being trapped in for the rest of his life. The sun had shined in her eyes as she’d said, “Because I don’t plan to leave yours.”  
“Nothing,” he’d breathed. “Nothing will take me away from you.”  
It had been like a dream, those days spent in the sheets, watching the dawns and the dusks, his lips glued to her neck while her delicate fingers traced patterns on his back. Helion always used to think that her hair smelled like the early beginnings of autumn – the smell of fallen leaves and woods coloured in browns and oranges and reds.  
It had been a dream, indeed.  
***  
He remembered the day he’d met her.  
The Equinox had been celebrated in the Autumn Court.   
Painted smiles and forced laughter all around him; the faces of the people he’d rather avoid, people with whom he had no connection whatsoever, but had to interact with out of some small polite obligation. Helion had bowed his head and smiled all the same, and yet he hadn’t been able to join on all that same old tiring conversation – it wasn’t in his nature to fake emotions, and especially not sympathy and pleasantness.  
When he saw her, it had been an arrow going through his mind and another right through his chest. An understanding, an answer to a question he had never asked himself, or anybody else. It had been a beginning and an ending for him in the same suspenseful second. He couldn’t have avoided staring at her, even if he’d been forced to.  
She’d been young, much younger than him. Tall, with the grace of a dove taking flight. Dark hair flowing behind her in tight curls, pinned at the back of her head with blood red roses, hints of gold weaved between the strands. When she’d turned, feeling his eyes on her, Helion had felt like he could’ve held the whole world in his palm. With one look from her.  
Her eyes had whispered things to him.   
You don’t belong here, they’d seemed to say.  
And that glint of mischief in the smiling eyes-  
You don’t belong here, either. A sip of his drink, but his gaze had been set on her with predatory intent.  
How presumptuous of you to think so.  
You started it.  
She’d given him another smile, one that could’ve either destroyed planets or made them. They hadn’t spoken. And Helion had fallen.  
Every single day he had dreamed of amber eyes and not at all shy smiles that tortured him relentlessly.  
***  
Two decades later, he’d been summoned to fight. Helion had found her cornered, baring her teeth at monsters with flames at the ready on her fingertips. He’d killed thirty Hybern beasts in her defence, and when her fire became nothing but lost embers in the cold wind, he’d held her shaking body.  
He’d known then. Of course he’d known.  
He’d known she was given to another male like a bag a flour, like a mere object for trade, like she was nothing but ties to an alliance for a power hungry family. He’d known of her children, and he’d known of her husband. He’d known that they now called her Lady of Autumn and that her fire had dimmed over the years. That she did not smile as often. That her hair no longer gleamed like tree branches covered in sunlight.  
He’d know, and yet he’d still bothered to let his heart beat for her that day.  
She had mourned the deaths of her sisters in his arms, and Helion’s chest had ached so bad he’d wanted to double over. As if that same arrow that had struck him at the Equinox party years and years ago had then punched another hole through him, but then it had been one that could not be healed.  
When he’d kissed her lips that day, it hadn’t been him. It hadn’t been the male that ran away from emotion. It hadn’t been the male that had been raised to look at his own comfort first. It hadn’t been the male that was clever enough to avoid opening his heart to a female who could give him nothing in return.  
And yet she had.  
The Lady of Autumn had wrapped her arms around him, clinging to him as if she’d been clinging to life itself. She’d kissed him, and Helion had found that all his life, all those years, he’d been missing parts of himself that he found in her.  
She’d pushed him away gently.  
And Helion, with hands covered in blood, his crown slipping from his head, had stared and stared, his heart racing, his breath staggering. He’d stared at the porcelain skin and eyes that had stayed in the back of his mind for twenty years, and he’d apologized, because there hadn’t been any other words left for him to say.  
“I’m sorry,” he’d murmured to her, ashamed and thrilled.  
“I’m not,” she’d said, and her eyes had stayed fixed on him, ignoring with all their might the dead bodies that surrounded them.  
A growl had been heard through the woods then.  
The panic on her face – it was something that would be engraved in Helion’s mind for as long as he lived. For he’d never seen her looking like that and – Mother forgive him – he wanted to kill the male who that voice belonged to, the male that made her face look like ash and dead leaves.  
Her name had been shouted once more. Her estate was burning in Hybern fire. And the Lady of Autumn had looked at Helion as if she’d made a decision.  
“Take me anywhere,” she’d pleaded.  
Helion had once been a clever male. That day – he’d strayed far, far away from the male his father had raised. He’d opened his heart, and he’d fled with the female of another male.  
The rest – the rest had been history.  
***

Knowing her mind in those months had been like knowing what lay beyond the veil of death. It had been like touching a piece of motherly sky, Helion was certain. He’d known, as he’d heard her speak, her body covered in a woollen blanket and her nose red from crying, that if the Mother decided to take him then, the paradise that awaited him would not feel as good as knowing the mind of the female in front of him.  
He’d told himself to treat her with nothing but kindness. To let her rest on his bed while he stayed at the other end of his palace, where her scent did not overpower him. He’d made a promise, one he wasn’t planning on breaking, that he would not approach her – even if she’d asked him to. His father had not raised a weak, dishonourable male, after all.  
His father – the male he had loved so much so long ago, who’d stared at his son from his portrait with dark, compassionate eyes. His father would tell him exactly that – that the risk was too high. That he did not need a war in his peaceful land because he could not keep his heart in check.   
Helion had stared at the portrait of a once great High Lord, and closed his eyes. He’d heard her steps in the hallway.  
He remembered – remembered it as clear as day, how his hands had grabbed onto the balcony railing, and how he’d begged the night sky to give him strength.   
Helion had wanted her then.  
He’d wanted her like he’d never wanted anything else in his life. And it wasn’t something that he could ignore. It was either fleeting his land at that moment – or face her, and face the consequences of not having the strong heart his father had demanded him to have.  
The Lady of Autumn had stared at him from the doorway.  
Helion had turned, his face blank.  
“Thank you,” she’d murmured to him. The once bright tone – now small and weakened.  
A shake of his head. A bow of his head. “Nothing to thank for, my Lady.”  
A pause. “May I join you?”  
He’d intended to say no. He’d intended to be strong. “Of course.”  
They’d stood side by side on that balcony, arms touching, hearts soaring. She had that blanket wrapped around her shoulders. A female made of fire, and now so afraid of the cold.  
“You must believe me insane,” she’d said to him, her eyes glazed over, watching the green hills in the distance. “For begging a stranger to take me away from my own court, my husband.”  
“I do not think such things,” he’d said without pause.  
“You should,” she’d whispered back. “I have truly lost my mind.”  
Helion had allowed one look at her. “Your children-“  
“They’re safe, I know,” she nodded. “I made sure before I left for my estate. And thanks to you-“  
“No,” he’d interrupted, before she could say it. “I did nothing.”  
“They wouldn’t have a mother if it had not been for you,” she replied. And then, “Humbleness is a strange characteristic on a male like you. You do not suit it.”  
He’d taken her words in, the way she’d spoken them too. And after a stalling pause, he’d asked her, “What do I suit?”  
“Greatness.”  
“You and I,” he’d said, his voice straining. “We are not strangers. Not truly.”  
“No,” she’d murmured. And then she’d looked up at him, and he’d seen a hint of the smile that had made him fall in love in the first place.  
An air had settled between them, one full of the empty promises that Helion had made for himself, and the feelings that had always been dancing between the two of them, feelings that ignited every single time he’d watched her from afar at some party he did not want to go, at some event she did not belong in, every single time their eyes crossed over the years.  
The silence stretched out in front of them, as far as the hills in the distance. It could’ve been hours, Helion thought, and still he would’ve wanted to stay in that one single moment where his eyes were on her and hers did not stray anywhere else from his face.  
She’d searched his eyes. And the words she’d spoken were another answer to a question neither of them had asked, “I beg you to take only what I give you, and not push me for more.”  
Her voice had trembled, as if the cold had indeed slipped into her bones.  
Helion had leaned in closer, asking the skies for forgiveness when his own words betrayed him, “I would beg on my knees for every little scrap you can give me, and not ever push you for more.”  
She had swallowed hard, as if she, too, was betraying herself. “I have longed for you ever since I saw you.”  
A step closer, another question answered. “And I, for you.”  
Her breathing had staggered with him so close, as if her lungs could not take the amount of air they needed in only one breath. “Know this is not new,” she’d said to him, close enough that her breath fanned over his exposed neck. “Know this is not a sudden change of heart. Know that-“  
She’d stopped when his lips touched her cheek, so softly. A lingering kiss on her skin that widened her eyes, her hunger, her need.  
Helion had felt as if in a daze, searching for the end of the maze and yet loving every minute of getting lost.  
With a trembling voice, she’d continued, “Know this is not a product of my vulnerability given recent events.”  
A small gasp had torn from her mouth as Helion’s lips had deviated to her other cheek, feeling the blush that crept there. A breeze of a kiss, feather-like in all aspects.  
“And know that,” she’d tried, eyes falling shut at his proximity, at the way he smelled, “know that you have owned my heart the minute your eyes met mine.”  
That kiss had been everything.  
The only thing that had ever made sense had been standing there, right there, in front of him, curving her body against his, placing her hands on his beating heart, breathing against his lips.  
And indeed – it had been exactly like he’d imagined countless times before: like getting lost, and adoring every single minute of it.  
Her hands had slowly made their way upwards, tracing the lapels of his jacket, until her arms wrapped around his neck to pull him ever so close. He’d felt the blanket he’d given her fall off her shoulders, ending up forgotten on the ground. A long time coming – this was a long time coming. He’d felt it in his bones.  
“Say it,” he’d whispered against her parted lips. “Say you have dreamed of me all these years, as I have dreamed of you.”  
“I have,” she’d breathed, gasping when his lips made a path down her neck. “I have.”  
He’d taken her to his bed at her request.  
Helion had gotten to know the tender spots on her body then. The way she arched her back whenever his lips traced the lines of her hips, or the way she clenched her fingers whenever his mouth trailed open kisses over her spine. He’d gotten to know the small sounds she made when he deepened their kisses, when everything became too hot too soon and she was both desperate and begging for him to give everything to her.  
He’d always thought himself a generous lover.  
Not once before had he felt like the love he gave was returned – but he did, only with her.  
Helion had found himself whispering her name as the contours of her body settled over his, as her lips had drawn patterns across the top of his chest. When she’d touched him, Helion hadn’t cared that there were lines drawn between them; he hadn’t cared at all as he’d felt her, all fire, against him; he hadn’t minded that there were limits to what she might be able to give him. He hadn’t cared, he’d just given her everything he had and hoped that by some miracle she would return with all her heart someday. Someday.  
***  
The morning after had been slow, born with kisses and small smiles. He’d placed his crown on his drawer and forgotten about it, at least for a few hours. He’d tended to her body again, and again, until she could no longer stop her legs from trembling, until she was dragging him upwards, finding his lips, and begging him to take her again.  
***  
He’d stood back and watched her in the baths. Her hair fell in ringlets around her face, her cheeks still rosy from the heat and the events from that morning and the night before. Her eyes, when they met his, sparkled again. Helion hadn’t remembered his own name.  
He hadn’t also failed to notice the way her eyes had dragged up and down his body several times as he’d stood there, completely bare, just watching her with the delight of a lover watching another. He’d hardened again, fast, and she’d smiled at him once more.  
“Join me,” she’d asked him.  
And because he was no longer the man his father had raised, Helion opened his heart again, and fell into her arms.  
But as he held her in the warm waters, her body flush against him, as he’d swam slowly with her, letting his nose nudge hers, letting his mouth pester hers with gentle kisses that said they had all the time in the world, he’d felt a sort of detachment begin to form on her part.  
“Say what’s on your mind,” he’d requested, taking her earlobe between his teeth.  
Her hand had paused against his heart. He remembered because his skin had felt like it had been burnt, though no flames erupted from her fingertips.  
“Last night…”she’d began, though did not finish.  
“Can happen again,” he’d lovingly told her. “And again. It can be our every night.”  
A soft, sad sigh from her. “Helion.”  
He’d smiled despite himself, because despite everything else she was still in his arms without any intention of pulling away, and because her words had no weight in them yet, and he felt her heart open for him as his was open for hers.   
“Forever can be ours,” he’d whispered as he‘d kissed her.  
“Even forever is bound to have an ending,” she’d murmured, and her tone had destroyed him.   
“Not for us,” he’d promised, taking her lips again, as if that would take the words out of her mouth, out of her heart. He’d said to her, “We can have mornings like this everyday. The sun can shine in your life everyday. We can raise children, yours and ours, in this palace and watch them play in the hills from the balcony. We can come home to each other every single day of our lives and let ourselves be lost in each other’s arms. That can be our life,” he’d murmured. “If you want it.”  
“I want it.”  
“You just have to say the words, my love,” he’d said, his mouth against her ear. “Just say the words.”  
She’d said nothing.  
Instead, she had taken his lips, and pulled him closer, wrapping her legs around his waist to bury him inside her again. And Helion had forgotten that there had been anything at all to be discussed.  
***  
She’d lied for months.  
Covering her escapades with anything that she could – visits to her family, visits to her friends, visits to other courts-  
And yet, her husband had known. Somehow, he had known.  
Still, she would always end up in Helion’s arms, and temptation would drive them both into each other, and when they were joined, nothing else would matter.  
Until it did.  
Until one night he’d come to bed, and found her staring at the window, her body wrapped in a towel. She’d smelled of him and his oils, as well as his own scent mixed in with hers. It had been no wonder how her husband had known. They had belonged to each other since the beginnings of time, two stars born out of a single one, and all it took was one joining for her scent to be forever imprinted on him, as well as the other way around.  
He’d sensed her tension all the way across the palace, but as he approached her then, it had been palpable.  
Helion had wanted her to lean on him, as she had leaned on him once, but now all that he could see in her face was a strange impassiveness. An almost cold thoughtful expression that marred her features and set a queasy feeling on the bottom of his stomach.  
The High Lord of Day had placed down his crown, and freed himself of his attire, watching her back move with each slow breath. She’d offered him no words, and he’d given her none as he’d climbed into bed, and crawled his way to her.  
A kiss placed on her bare shoulder to grab her attention, another placed at the top of her spine, right at the center.  
She’d shifted, her body slowly responding to him. When words were difficult, touches became easier. And Helion had wanted every touch of his mouth to her skin to let her know, to remind her, that he was there. He would always be there.  
After a bit, she’d said, so quietly, “He is threatening you.”  
Helion had lifted his eyes from her porcelain skin, and watched the night darken outside. Her reflection in the wide window had told him that there was more to the words she’d spoken, things that she did not want to tell him, things that were implied, and things he’d already known.  
“Let him come,” Helion had murmured, a certain kind of wild possessiveness taking over him. The darkness in his tone hadn’t been faked. “Let him try and rip you from my arms.”  
“Helion,” she’d said, and the High Lord of Day had missed a heartbeat at hearing the crying in her voice.  
He’d taken her cheeks, watched her eyes, and let his thumbs wipe at her face. He’d said, very clearly, “He will not take you from me,” Helion had placed a kiss on her lips, as if that would seal the promise. “You do not need to be frightened-“  
“It’s not just that,” she’d whispered. “I am afraid he will threaten my children too, Helion.”  
“He will not hurt his heirs,” he’d tried to reason.  
“You do not know him, then,” she’d simply said, turning away. “I cannot risk it.”  
A dark feeling had wrapped around his heart. A rage so wild it had made him burn. He would kill the damned bastard. He would crack his head open before he had a chance to touch her children.  
“Bring them here,” Helion had said. “We bring them here.” When there was nothing but silence from her, Helion had continued, “At first light, I will go with you and we will bring them to Day. Beron will not dare to touch them in my territory.”  
No answer. Nothing.  
He’d suddenly felt as if the air had been leaving his lungs little by little, leaving him choking. He’d known, when her back had not turned to him once, that they were reaching the end of the line.  
“Do you love him?” He’d whispered, so slowly.  
“You know I love you.”  
There had been a but somewhere that got lost in her throat. Helion had felt the beginnings of a shattered heart. Uselessly, he’d called her name.  
And her voice had cracked him in half, and the words had split his world into three and four and five, and a million pieces that he wouldn’t be able to put back together. “No, Helion.”  
He had let a hundred seconds pass. More. And then, “Is it not worth it?”  
She’d supplied no answer – just a shaking breath.  
He had insisted, “Are we not worth it?”  
“We are not worth a war, Helion,” she’d said.   
“I will fight a hundred wars if I have to. A thousand. A million. Let all of Autumn charge through my lands. Let them rain down on me. I will fight them all,” he’d said, and the words had almost been a growl in his throat.  
“I know,” she’d whispered. “And that’s why I have to leave.”  
When she’d lifted herself off the bed, it had been instinctive for Helion to reach out and touch her hand. “No,” he’d choked on the word. “Please – don’t do this.”  
Her cheeks had been wet as she’d gazed down at him. “I love you so much,” she’d murmured, the words shaking.  
“Do not say it as if you are saying goodbye to me,” he’d told her, fingers entwining. “Not now.”  
“I told you not to push me,” she’d shaken her head at him, more tears escaping.   
At that, Helion had paused. He’d promised himself he wouldn’t. He’d promised himself that none of his selfishness would ever intrude between them. He’d promised. And yet it seemed that all his promises meant nothing at all, because he found himself begging.  
“Please,” he’d whispered. “Please.”  
Hesitation from her. And yet he had been able to see the way her eyes had turned to the door, anguished, then back to him, and that she wanted to stay with every fibre of her being.  
“That could be our life,” he’d said the same thing months ago. “This can be our life. You are worth a war to me. I would fight until my last dying breath for you.”  
She’d climbed onto the bed, cupping his face in her hands. “I know,” she’d repeated, so close to his lips, her forehead resting against his. “Do you not see that that is exactly the reason why I need to leave? I know you, Helion,” she’d said, nudging her nose with his, letting her eyes fall shut. “I know what you are capable of. I will not have you in danger. Not because of me.”  
“I-“  
“Do not speak,” she’d begged, shaking her head. “Don’t. Please.”  
He’d known it had been a war lost before it had begun. He’d known. The feeling that sunk inside him was a wave that drowned him. And Helion hadn’t been able to breathe.  
“Helion,” she’d said his name as if it tasted like regret. “I’m sorry.”  
He’d been holding on to her waist, searching for the bravery to let her go. She’d been crying above him, her arms wrapped around him, her shaking body against his.  
And in a moment of wildness, when his brain could not function at the thought of him without her and her without him and a world where the sun did not shine, Helion simply leaned in to her, and kissed her lips.  
Time and fate had not been his allies. And he’d kissed her like he’d wanted to fight the world for and because of it.  
No amount of sadness could have prevented her from moaning his name when Helion let his hands drag over her body, when his lips marked her neck. Without thinking, without rhyme or reason, without having the consequences of what they were about to do in mind, Helion simply let go.  
He let go when she deepened the kiss, when her body rolled against his, desperate for friction. And he let go when he heard her whisper, her body scalding to the touch, “Love me once more.” A soft cry from her. “Just one more time. I will never break your heart again.”  
“Break it a hundred times,” he’d said against her skin. “And I will come back to you a thousand more.”  
The words had been meant to hurt her, and he’d felt them hit home. He’d felt her own heart breaking. But Helion had already been beyond repair, and so he had nothing else to lose.  
He’d pushed her down onto the mattress, ignoring the way her gasp had sliced at his heart like a flaming sword. He’d ripped the towel off her body, a growl forming at the back of his throat when his eyes travelled over her naked body. It had still gleamed from the water and the oils from the bath.  
He’d taken his time then, for he intended to make it last. No matter how much it hurt them both, Helion could allow a few hours of selfishness. When all pieces where already on the ground, there is nothing else to break.  
Still – he had relished every sound that escaped her lips, every movement of her hips. He had committed to memory the way her eyes fluttered shut when he spread her legs for him, or when her hands grabbed at his hair when he tasted her.  
He’d left marks on every hidden part of her body – marks only she would get to see. In those hours when rage mixed with passion and passion mixed with sadness, he’d let himself hope that those marks would serve as a painful reminder, as the broken pieces of his heart would serve as a reminder for him.  
***  
He hadn’t wanted to hate her.  
The sensible male in him knew that it had been the right choice – to protect herself, him, and the children, who were not at fault for what their father was. He hadn’t wanted to hate her, then. But for a few moments, the anger wrapped around his heart had been so large that he hadn’t known what else to feel, who else to blame.  
So he’d loved her, and in return, she’d left the moment the first ray of sun had kissed the sky.  
When he’d woken up, he’d still been able to feel the painful lines she’d left on his back, the bruises on his neck. He’d made her explode into flames, and she’d left a few reminders of her own for him to deal with.  
He grieved her still.  
However, there was no anger in his heart but a deep sadness because of a love long lost, a love so close to him and yet so far, a love that could have been but never truly was.  
That was the worst part.  
Things unfinished can always hurt more than the things with a marked ending. And the High Lord of Day hadn’t bothered to pick up the pieces over the centuries.  
Sometimes he looked at his bed and imagined that she was there, waiting for him. Other times he woke up in the middle of the night with the strange feeling that someone, like the soft caress of a ghost, had pulled his hair out of his face – the way that she used to do, whenever she was about to kiss him.  
Sometimes he thought he’d healed. And then he would take another lover, and find that something was lacking. He’d be reminded of what he’d lost and all passion would be gone from his life.  
Most days, he was angry at himself.  
He looked at the portrait of his father. The eyes of the male he had respected more than life itself stared down at him in judgement. Helion simply muttered, “You would have done the same with mother.”  
It was true – his father had loved Helion’s mother wildly, with a passion that could’ve burned down multiple worlds at once. The mating bond between the two had been unmistakable and so, so strong, that when his own mother perished, his father did too. Two stars born out of a single one – returned to the place that had created them, the place that had bound them together.  
He let the thought console him, although it barely did him any good.  
Helion walked the halls of his palace, until he’d found himself in the darkness of his room. The room he’d shared with her. Once – what seemed like a lifetime ago. And the pain was still much worse than any wound he’d suffered in battle.  
He trailed his eyes over the drawn curtains, and replayed memories. Every good and terrible moment, every smile and every tear, without ever knowing that something truly beautiful had been born out of the love of two stars, forever destined to be parted from each other.  
The High Lord of Day was considered by many to be the sun personified. But what they did not know was that the sun hadn’t truly shined in his life for a long, long time. Helion did not know if it would ever again.

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: Straying away a little bit from my main ships, but I was requested to write a story about Lady Vanserra and Helion, and I really, really wanted to see what I could do with these two. So I decided to explore certain moments of their life before acotar, and how their relationship eventually came to an end. Hope you guys enjoy it and, as always, leave me any suggestions and/or opinions. They are always immensely appreciated. Have a wonderful week, we’ll talk soon! xx
> 
> P.S.: This fanfic was inspired by the song Ending by Isak Danielson.


End file.
